


Robin's In Love/Batman As Above!

by generalsleepy



Category: Batman (1966)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Age Difference, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalsleepy/pseuds/generalsleepy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An peaceful day at stately Wayne Manor, home of millionaire Bruce Wayne and his youthful ward, Dick Grayson. A warm spring breeze rustles the curtains, as young minds turn towards academic pursuits... amongst other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Robin's In Love/Batman As Above!

**Author's Note:**

> I warned for underage, but there's nothing specific about Dick's age, and he can be over eighteen if you'd like.

Dick sighed and looked up from his math book. Across from the coffee table he was hunched over, busy with his homework, Bruce sat on the sofa. He was reading over the latest stock reports of Wayne Enterprises. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his legs crossed, thumb under his chin and fingers on his cheek. Dick watched his eyes slowly drift back and forth across the folder open on his lap.

Bruce met his gaze, and his face smoothed in a gentle smile. “Making progress, Dick?”

Dick frowned. “Gosh, Bruce, I've been reading this chapter over and over, but those logarithmic functions just keep stumping me.”

“I can see you're certainly putting in quite the effort,” Bruce said with a nod. Dick couldn't help but smile and sit up straighter at the praise. “And, that's what matters above all else. We gain the most by pursuing the subjects which challenge us, regardless of the outcome.”

“Thanks. I wish you could explain all of that to Mrs. Aaronson, though.”

He chuckled. “I'm sure you'll be able to figure it all out. After all, you have puzzled your way through more than your share of the Riddler's conundrums.”

“I guess.” He shook his head. “If Riddler sent us calculus problems, I think he'd have robbed all of Gotham blind by now. Well, I guess not. Since you would be there.”

“Don't get too down on yourself. I can tell you that I wasn't exactly a math whiz in high school either. It took time and effort to build and program the Bat Computer, but now I'm glad to have it to rely on.”

Dick smirked. Bruce could figure out anything if he had enough time to really put his head to it. He hoped that if he studied under Bruce – or Batman – long enough he would have at least half of his talent.

Bruce glanced at his watch. “You've been hard at work for nearly forty-five minutes. I think even the most demanding taskmaster would allow you a break.” He closed the folder and put it to the side. He stretched an arm across the back of the couch in a silent invitation.

Dick stood and practically bounced over to the couch. He tucked his legs up under him, his hip pressed against Bruce's. Bruce drops his arm to wrap around Dick's shoulders and pulled him a little closer. Dick let out a very different sigh than the one brought on by trying to solve Ln(x – 3) + Ln(x – 2) = Ln (2x + 24). He rested his head on Bruce's shoulders and breathed in the subtle smell of his cologne.

“You know, Bruce, I can't help but love days like these,” he said.

“Hm?”

“No fancy parties or charity fundraisers. And no work for Batman and Robin either. Just you and me with the manor to ourselves, being just ourselves.”

Alfred had gone out shopping, taking advantage of the sales. He'd taken Aunt Harriet out with him to get her a new dress for the upcoming Wayne Foundation charity gala. While she was getting ready to go out, Bruce had mentioned to Alfred that he should let the errands take as long as they could, some time in the late afternoon. Good old Alfred responded with a simple, “Certainly, sir,” as if he had no idea why that might be and would not dream of asking.

“I agree with you.” Bruce said. “I am committed to our charities for the betterment of Gotham City, and being Batman was once the main focus of my life, but I still treasure our precious downtime.”

Dick nodded, then frowned. “Once was?”

“Well, obviously, before I met you.” Dick's chest swelled at Bruce's words. He looked up into Bruce's soft, blue eyes. His expression was full of pride, inflating the happy balloon even more. “Being Batman was once my guiding principle. I felt out of place when I wasn't on the track of a criminal, almost as though Bruce Wayne were my masked alter ego, and Batman my true identity. Then, when I met you and took you into my house, I realized that there were more important things in life.”

He placed a hand on Dick's cheek, leaned back his head, and kissed him lightly.

The balloon popped like a party cracker. Dick stretched an arm around Bruce's side. Bruce broke the kiss. “Alfred and Aunt Harriet won't be back for a few hours now,” he whispered, his mouth inches from Dick's.

“Holy secret liaison,” Dick whispered back. He closed the space between them and kissed him more passionately. As they kissed, Bruce slipped a hand under his fuzzy, red sweater. He felt goosebumps raise on his arms and neck at the touch of the smooth hand on his bare skin. Dick tightened his grip on Bruce's waist, as his heart raced and his pulse pounded between his ears.

He'd lost track of time, when Bruce pulled away. He smiled down at Dick, stroking his hair with his free hand. “I hope you don't mind if I distract you from your work a while more.”

“Gosh, no.”

Bruce chuckled. He kissed Dick's forehead, his heated cheek, his jaw, and then his lips again. At the same time, he slid his hand farther up Dick's side, fingers rolling over his ribs. Acting in tune, they separated so that Dick could tug off his sweater. Bruce took it from him, folded it in half, and draped it neatly over the arm of the couch.

They returned to the kiss, as if that were their natural state. Dick could feel Bruce's tongue gently meeting his. Bruce shuffled around so that he could work on Dick's belt with both hands. Dick straightened out his legs to help Bruce tug down his slacks, though he deliberately left Dick's boxers on. He slipped a hand under the elastic waistband, trailing through the thick curls, tracing the hollow under his pelvic bone, stroking his hip. Dick gasped and whimpered into the kiss. Finally, he circled his thumb and finger around the base of Dick's erection and stroked him slowly.

He felt a rush in his belly. Every inch of his skin was hot and tingling, sensitive to the lightest touch. He buried his fingers in Bruce's hair. Bruce moved the kiss to the crook of his neck, sending fresh thrills rushing through him. He peeled off the boxers, leaving them in a neat pile with the slacks.

Bruce turned back to him with a wry smile and a playful glimmer in his eyes. He looped an arm around Dick's back, cradling the nape of his neck.

“All right, chum?” he said, voice smooth and low, as he spread Dick's legs, draping one over his own. Dick nodded. He couldn't stop himself from rushing forward into a kiss that Bruce met with enthusiasm. Bruce ran his fingers through Dick's short hair at the same time as he tenderly stroked his erection from base to tip. Dick gasped and moaned into the kiss. He clung to the back of Bruce's cardigan as if he were about to fall off a cliff.

Bruce freed one of his hands to fondle his testicles. It didn't take long for all of the for the rush of pleasure to crescendo. His stomach stiffened, and he threw back his head to cry out, “Holy--!” There wasn't any word he could think of to follow that.

For a minute, he lay completely lax in in Bruce's arms, resting his head on his shoulder. Finally, he drew in a deep breath, then whispered, “Holy petit mort, Bruce.”

Bruce chuckled. He held Dick's chin in his thumb and forefinger and gently raised his face to his. He kissed him lightly on the lips and then gave him a quick peck on his forehead. “How was that?” he said.

Dick nodded. “Golly! That was fantastic.”

Bruce smiled and tapped Dick's chin. He glanced down at his lap. “I suppose I'll have to wash these pants before Alfred does the laundry. He looked back into Dick's eyes. “Are you too tuckered out already?”

Dick shook his head hard enough to give himself whiplash. “Not a bit.”

His smile grew. “Happy to hear it.”

Without having to be told, Dick went to work on the buttons of Bruce's cardigan. When he'd finished, he handed it to Bruce, who draped it over the arm of the sofa, beside Dick's clothes. Next was the crisp, white shirt. He tugged it out of his pants, undid all the buttons, and then spread it open. Dick let his eyes roam over Bruce's chest. He ran his hands over the soft, blond hairs there, then ducked his head and pressed a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat.

“Mmm,” Bruce hummed happily. He shut his eyes and leaned back his head.

Encouraged, Dick scattered kisses all over Bruce's exposed throat, while he went to work on his belt and pants. He slipped Bruce's erection out of the fly of his boxers. He started stroking him with both hands. He cast one last look up at Bruce's face, then resettled himself so he was reclining on the couch. He licked the underside of his erection, relishing Bruce's sharp inhale. He took the head into his mouth and swirled his tongue around, over the slit, gently pushing back his foreskin. Then, he lowered his head until his lips touched his fingers, still wrapped around the base of his erection.

Bruce let out a contented sigh. Dick set up a rhythm, slowly moving his head up and down, his hand moving in time. With one hand, Bruce stroked Dick's hair, while he trailed his fingers from Dick's shoulder down his ribs. Dick's skin prickled, and he felt a new swell of pleasure starting to build in the pit of his stomach.

He bobbed his head faster up and down, taking in more, stopping before his gag reflex kicked in, as Bruce had instructed him. Dick felt the hand on the back of his head tense. Bruce gripped his shoulder. “Let me, Dick.”

Dick let Bruce pull him away. He pulled down his pants and boxers the rest of the way and then laid them on the ground, careful not to tangle them up with Dick's clothes. He pushed Dick forward slightly, then readjusted himself, so he was starting to lie down. Picking up on what he was doing, Dick moved to forward to let Bruce lie down all the way. He lifted up his right leg, then placed it down again, his knees on either side of Bruce's shoulders. Bruce hooked his knees over the arm of the sofa, so his erection was pointed up at Dick. Dick held onto his legs, his heart racing at the thought of what was going to happen.

“Comfortable?” Bruce said, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Gosh, yes.”

Bruce stroked him slowly, then took him into mouth. Dick's body jolted, and he let out a moan. He turned his attention to doing the same for Bruce. They moved with each other, smoothly, like a well-rehearsed dance. Dick lost track of time. His mind was blank of everything except the warmth and pleasure running through his body.

He tried to hold back, but, too soon, the tension building in his stomach broke through. He moaned around the soft weight in his mouth. He pulled his lips back and stroked Bruce's erection, as little shudders rolled through him. At the same time, Bruce took his mouth off of Dick's penis. He pressed lazy kisses to the insides of his thighs, while running his fingers gently over his heated skin.

When his mind cleared, he returned his attention to Bruce. He stroked him fast and ran his tongue along the slit.

He didn't know how long later, Bruce's body tensed. His hips bucked upwards. Dick took him as deep as he could, as Bruce came. Dick swallowed. He was proud that he was getting better at this. He was even happier that he was getting plenty of practice.

Dick slowly took his mouth off of Bruce's softening penis. He took deep breaths, and couldn't control a few little coughs.

Bruce gently caressed Dick's round backside. “All right there, Dick, pal?”

Dick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Golly, yes.”

Bruce scooched backwards, pulling his legs off the arm of the chair. Dick maneuvered himself around, while Bruce settled against the cushions. He cuddled up to him, head resting on Bruce's shoulder, face pressed into the crook of his neck.

“Did I do alright, Bruce?”

Bruce wrapped an arm around him. “Fantastic.”

For a few seconds, they just lay there, bodies fit together like a hand in a glove. Dick breathed in the smell of sweat and smooth cologne that he couldn't get enough of.

Bruce kissed the crown of his head. “I love you so much, Dick,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Bruce.”

Bruce rubbed his shoulder. “Now. How do you feel about a nice cold shower?” he said. “Some tea and sandwiches, and then I can give you a hand on those logarithms.

“Sure!” Dick stood up and stretched. He gathered up his clothes in a bundle to his chest. Bruce did the same. “Maybe we can head down to the Batcave and work on those improvements to the Batmobile.”

“Good idea. Your schoolwork should come first, though. We both need to keep our minds as honed as our equipment, or we'll stand no chance against the slippery and devious criminal mind. History, and our own experience, has proven time and again that brains will always triumph over sheer brawn.”

Dick shook his head. “Gosh, you're right, Bruce. Of course.”

“Now.” He smiled. “How let's get to that shower, old friend. Alfred and Aunt Harriet will be coming home eventually.” He gave a coy smile. “We don't want to frighten the poor woman.”

Dick laughed. Bruce slung an arm over his shoulder, and then they started towards the stairs. The prospect of the shower, a cozy lunch, and the memory what had just happened just about made a page of calculus problems seem almost tolerable. He leaned his head on Bruce's shoulder and took a deep, happy sigh.

Batman and Robin, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. Either way, the best team to ever join forces.


End file.
